"Start a family. It's easier to build an empire." (c) Emil Michel Cioran
***On the porch of a small but cosy and comfortable house, through whose white windows a bright, pleasant light shone, sat a tall, beautiful woman in a rocking chair. Her light brown hair was tucked under a small knitted cap, and the delicate arms of her neat glasses were tucked in there as well. In the light of a small lamp standing nearby, the woman was reading a newspaper, occasionally sipping a hot, steaming drink from a large mug.
It was already quite chilly outside, but she was comfortably warm thanks to a cosy blanket, hot chocolate and the thought of her beloved husband soon returning from work. Perhaps she still loved him, even after a long life together, domestic routine and a restless child who, thank Merlin, would be staying at Hogwarts for a few more weeks.
Andromeda Tonks, for it was she, loved her little girl. But she admitted that she didn't take after her in character, or even her calm, level-headed father. Rather, the restless fifteen-year-old tomboy was the spitting image of her cousin Sirius. No wonder he always found a common language with the little girl when he visited their family nest before... all the events.
The woman sighed sadly. Deep wrinkles cut across her beautiful, clean forehead for a second, making the young Mrs. Tonks look older than her years. Her gaze unconsciously fell on an old photograph of her cousin printed on the front page of The Prophet. Here he really did look crazy, with his dirty hair tousled and his eyes bulging. And although Andromeda had never been entirely sure that her cousin had joined Voldemort, doubts, as well as the assurances of the Aurors and Dumbledore, were slowly gnawing away at her soul.
Yes, the headmaster of Hogwarts had recently visited their loving family, as one of the places where a fugitive criminal might seek refuge. Her dear Teddy had assured Dumbledore that he would do everything in his power to apprehend the criminal...
But Andromeda Black knew Sirius's capabilities firsthand. And if what had been written about him was true, then neither her husband nor the Auror watching their house would be able to stop her mad cousin. Her friends advised her to leave the country, to move her daughter to Beauxbaton... But how could they leave? She and Ted had jobs here, friends, a house they had built with their own hands, even if it was in a Muggle neighbourhood. And Nymphosa was unlikely to willingly go to a foreign country; her whole life was here in Britain.
No, she was a Black, in blood and spirit. Hiding, running away like a coward in another country was simply repugnant to her. Besides, Andromeda had known her little brother since childhood. He wouldn't hurt her, even if he went mad; family always came first for the Blacks. Although he also considered the Potters family...
"Siri..." Andromeda sighed again, crumpling the hated newspaper and burning it with her bare hands, without even touching her wand. "I hope you're all right... What..." Here, in the gathering twilight, the woman suddenly noticed a tall, dark figure emerging from the bushes and moving purposefully towards the house. But Ted wouldn't be back for another couple of hours... Auror?
"Who are you?" Straightening to her full height, the woman clutched the wand tightly in her hand, hiding it behind her back. After all, it could have been just a passer-by who had lost his way in the maze of streets, and it would have been foolish to break the Statute over such a trifle. "State your name!"
"It's me, Meda," a painfully familiar, tired voice knocked all previous thoughts out of her head. The light from the windows illuminated a familiar smile on a pale, emaciated face. "I think I have a lot to tell you."
***
A person cannot be alone for long. I realised this at that wonderful moment when, waking up from a brief faint, Meda slapped me so hard that my cheek burned for a couple of minutes, and then hugged me as if afraid to let go. Family... How much that ordinary word means, yet I couldn't even tell if the wave of emotions that washed over me was my own or what was left of Sirius.
My decision to visit Andromeda was by no means spontaneous. Apart from the fact that I simply missed normal conversation and human company, there was a danger that the old man in the starry cap would turn her against me, if he hadn't already done so. And I was planning, at the very least, to repair our family relationship, and at best, to enlist her support in the upcoming exposure of Pettigrew and discuss returning to the Black family. I don't know how Walburga would react to that, though... Although, no, I do know, unfortunately, but that was not a matter for a single day, and I would somehow survive the screams of the malicious portrait. Right now, I just wanted to talk.
I moved to the outskirts of London, using the map and fragments of my memories to find my way. The Tonks family lived in the suburbs, and Sirius used to visit them, so I knew the route, but I didn't dare to apparate too close for safety reasons, and I just wanted to walk a little to get rid of my slight jitters. So I got to the area where the house was on my motorbike. A couple of blocks away, I left the bike and set off on foot, carefully checking the alleys and courtyards for magical traces. After all, Aurors could be waiting for me at the Tonks' house, well aware of my good relationship with their sister, even if it was in the past.
I doubted, of course, that Medu was being guarded by a whole group of captors, but one person could, or rather should, have been left to watch the house, otherwise I would be disappointed in them. So even when I saw Andromeda sitting on the porch, I walked around the house for a long time, looking for a lookout.
"There you are..." I muttered quietly when I saw a respectable gentleman reading a newspaper on one of the benches. With an awkward movement, the edges of his striped jacket opened slightly, and for a second I caught a glimpse of a holster for a magic wand. And the newspaper itself didn't look like a Muggle newspaper, even though some kind of spell had been cast on it to prevent the pictures from moving.
"Free work, James Bond," he said, and grains of living death potion, collected on a small leaf invisible in the evening gloom, floated slowly through the air towards him. The fool didn't feel a thing until the very last moment, when he recognized an unpleasant tingling in his nose.
"This is..." he began, reaching for his holster. Clearly a novice, he should have held his breath instead of babbling. It was even a little hurtful that they didn't appreciate me so much, the bastards. Although, okay, maybe they just didn't expect me to show up after so long, instead of doing it right away as soon as I escaped?
The powder had already done its dirty work, and the Auror went limp almost instantly, falling into a deep, comatose sleep. I tweaked his dream a little with Legilimency. Then, finally throwing off my invisibility cloak and breathing much more freely without the threat of being tied up by the Aurors on duty, I slowly moved towards the Tonks' house, glancing at Medea, who hadn't noticed me yet. I walked cautiously, because despite her calm nature, in stressful situations Andromeda could freak out no worse than Bella, as Sirius remembered well from the scandal that erupted in the Black House when information about her love for a Muggle-born girl came to light. Indeed, she was almost like Bellatrix, except that they were very similar in appearance, almost like twins, except that Meda's eyes were always kinder, several shades lighter.
"Siri," Meda suddenly blinked, finally noticing me. And she fainted. I barely managed to catch her and carry her into the house.
I had to wait for her to come to her senses on her own. If I had started to "treat" her using the usual methods, i.e. a slap in the face and a bucket of water, there might have been one less fugitive criminal without any help from the Aurors, thanks to the modest housewife... To be honest, I really didn't want that, so a few minutes passed in silence, and I looked around the hallway with curiosity, comparing what I saw with Sirius's vague memories. It was quite interesting to follow the thought images and notice some rearrangements and changes. For example, there definitely hadn't been a still life painting before...
Meda didn't keep me waiting long. After about five minutes, she finally came to, realising she was still in my arms...
"Sirius Orion Black... PUT ME DOWN IMMEDIATELY!" A strong slap burned my right cheek, and my ears rang faintly from the directed sound attack. My older sister's hand was as heavy as it had been five years ago.
"I guess I should have left you lying in the street," I muttered, carefully lowering her onto the shaggy carpet. As always, when I had nothing to say, I tried to joke. "You could have at least hugged your brother for appearances' sake. Didn't you miss me?"
"You... you..." She started to get worked up again, taking deep breaths. Then she suddenly went limp and, to my surprise, hugged me tightly, seemingly without any fear of breaking my ribs, and even sniffed. "I missed you, Siri."
"Me too, Meda," I said, delicately hugging her waist and stroking her luxurious chestnut curls. "Me too."
We talked for a long time and drank hot chocolate. My cousin told me how, after my imprisonment, she had tried to get a visit, but even her old acquaintances couldn't help her. She told me how, after the fall of the Dark Lord, she had buried her friends and tried to rebuild her life and adapt to a new world without war and terrorist attacks. She told me how Ted worked twenty-four hours a day while she sat at home with her little daughter, afraid of raids by the remaining Death Eaters. She talked about life in peacetime, about her family, mostly about Nymphadora, the girl who hated her name, about the moments that Sirius had never seen.
I could only tell her about the last few weeks; it would have been unfair to burden my cousin's fragile shoulders with memories of Azkaban. So I limited myself to a couple of jokes, moving on from the painful subject to my plans for the future. The future looked much brighter than the past.
Naturally, I told her how everything really was. About the traitor Peter, the unfair trial, and everything else. The only thing I left out was where the rat was hiding at the moment. I just wasn't sure she wouldn't rush off to take revenge on him right then and there... And I didn't tell her about my suspicions about Dumbledore. After all, Andromeda was more than loyal to him now, and it would take a long time to convince her otherwise. But otherwise, I was completely honest with her. She was probably the only person I could trust completely, and after getting it off my chest, I really felt better.
After a while, when we had run out of things to talk about, we just sat there, sipping the last of our chocolate (although I wouldn't have minded something stronger). Meda was the first to break the awkward silence.
"So, you're Lord Black now?" my cousin asked with a hint of sadness, pointing to the large ring with the Rod coat of arms. "I remember you used to try to stay away from family responsibilities."
"In other words, you ran away from it like a scared rabbit," I laughed. Meda smiled too. But I knew what she was thinking, so I exhaled sharply, stopped smiling, and continued in a serious tone:
"I had to. The Black family is dying out, Meda, you know that yourself. To be honest, it has almost ceased to exist. I am the only one left in the direct line.
"Well, I'm still here. Cissy, Bella... Although, yes, let's not mention the last one," she chuckled grimly. "What about Pollux and Cygnus?"
"Are those old men still alive?" I was quite surprised.
For as long as I could remember, even as a child, they were quite frail, both veterans of the war with Grindelwald. After retiring, Pollux settled somewhere in France, buying himself a mansion as old as he was, while Cygnus decided to go travelling in his old age, and there had been no news from him for a very long time. I would have to ask Valburga if she had kept in touch with him.
"Yes, Pollux, rumour has it that he was seen in France a year ago buying another House-elf," Andromeda said, running her hand through her hair and tilting her head thoughtfully to one side. "And Cygnus... Just because we haven't heard from him doesn't mean he's dead. You know how old people can be sometimes." Look at the family tree if you want to know.
"And yet," I continued, making a mental note to dig deeper into the Black family tree, "at the moment, you have to admit, our family is in decline. Narcissa is married to Malfoy, she's moved to another family, and there's only one heir, Malfoy. Bella is almost the same, everything there is... — I waved my hand somewhere to the side, and my cousin nodded understandingly. With Bellatrix, now Lestrange, everything was complicated even before the big mess started, and now... — And you...
"What are you getting at, Siri?" Meda frowned and pursed her lips, suddenly looking several years older. Brr, do all wizards have this ability or something?
"To the fact that I am now the Head of the Family. And I can correct the mistake my mother made in the past. It's been a long time coming for something to change in our family. And I'm ready to do it!" Suppressing the urge to shiver, I demonstratively tapped the rim of my ring and threw my head back.
"You're still a rebel, my little brother," Meda smiled warmly, unexpectedly ruffling my hair as she leaned slightly over the table. "You're talking about bringing me back to a family... that practically doesn't exist anymore. Sirius Black, a terrible criminal wanted by all of magical England... And Ted? I told my mother then, and I'll tell you now. I will never leave him, Sirius.
"You don't have to leave anyone, we'll just introduce you as a side branch of the family, I'll perform all the necessary rituals," I said dismissively, getting up and breaking free from my sister's embrace. My keen ears caught the sound of someone approaching the house, their footsteps barely audible on the asphalt. "And I won't be on the run forever, Meda. Peter won't hide from me.
"But...
"Just promise you'll think about it," I said, looking seriously into her eyes and lifting the corners of my lips.
"All right," she relented after a few moments of silence.
"All right, then! And by the way, I think it would be better if you didn't tell Ted anything yet. He's a good man, but he might not understand. Now," I bowed jokingly, waving my bandana, "allow me to take my leave!
I barely managed to apparate before Tonks entered the house and moved straight to my motorcycle. Then I went home, using magic to shrink the bike to the size of a toy model. It's a pity that frequent transfiguration damages mechanisms, even simple ones like those used in a motorcycle. And it takes quite a lot of energy to maintain the spell. I'll have to rent a garage and make a couple of hiding places for a rainy day. Life is such a funny thing.
"Glad to serve the Head of the Black Family," Creacher said, carefully emphasising all three words, and bowed respectfully, appearing with a soft pop at my call.
I grimaced. I had never liked servility, but even after getting rid of the influence of the cruciatus curse, the house-elf had no desire to relearn his ways. Well, at least he no longer threw himself at my feet, banging his forehead on the floor. Or his forehead on the floor.
"Please bring dinner to the library, then get me the books by Gilderoy Lockhart," I tossed the House-elf a few Galleons in a bag hastily transfigured from a piece of paper lying in my pocket.
"Yes, Master." The house-elf moved to the kitchen, hurriedly serving a late dinner, while I settled comfortably into my chair and prepared paper for new notes.
So, some time ago, I began to notice certain changes in myself. Now I could somehow tell where the house-elf was at any given moment and what he was doing. I wonder if this is a result of the ritual or just a strengthening of the wizard-house-elf connection? I haven't figured it out yet. But it was definitely related to the fact that it was becoming easier and easier for me to cast spells. Transfiguration, which Sirius was a master at, became especially easy, and I even earned praise from McGonagall. Perhaps all this was happening because I had been using transfiguration quite often lately, so the skill had improved. Merlin was not joking...
"Thank you, Kreacher," I said when a mountain of food appeared on the table. The greatest joy for a former prisoner, apart from freedom. I paused recording my thoughts for a few minutes to pay tribute to the talents of the house elf. He brought books, too... Elves are amazing creatures, able to do so much in a quarter of an hour. Maybe in the future I can help Hermione create the G.A.W.N.E... Just kidding, of course, House-elves die like flies without energy, but wizards should definitely treat them better.
But, back to our sheep, or rather, Lockhart. Leafing through his books, I stopped at some episodes from his adventures. Specifically, those that took place in Great Britain, because the holder of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, had managed to travel a lot.
I needed at least some evidence to really put pressure on the golden-haired Stephen King, so it was worth spending a day on this question. Tomorrow my schedule is free... Heh heh. I don't think Lockhart changed the names, but some of the fragments he described had very clear references. For example, according to some comments, in the episode with the banshee, you could recognise Belfast Castle in Northern Ireland {?} [Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom, not to be confused with Ireland], the descriptions were quite characteristic. So, I added some addresses to my list of places to visit later.
Out of interest, I read a couple of excerpts and realised that this Lockhart writes quite well, with a spark, I even got a little carried away. He may be a swindler, but he's a good writer, that's for sure. Why did he turn to crime? I think if Lockhart had just written about the exploits of others, he would have still gained a fair share of fame. But... Everything is as it is.
After Lockhart's books, written in a modern, easy and emotional style, the old books on blood magic and rituals were hard going. They were interesting too, but tedious, with Old English and an abundance of terminology that made my teeth grind, but I took my time, delved into the basics, wrote down some spells and curses for myself on sheets of paper... But it was slow going, even with my decent reading speed, I must say. In a few hours, I only got through three chapters.
My eyes were already closing, despite a break and another snack, my brain refused to function, and I, making a conscious effort not to fall asleep right there in my comfortable chair, moved to my room. On the way, something clicked in my brain, and I glanced at the hallway, turning towards the family tapestry, looking for my great-grandfathers on the large canvas.
"Lycorus Black I, 1808-1872," my eyes latched onto the familiar name. "Thanks for the wand, Grandpa," I said, mechanically rubbing the warm handle. Although it wasn't my wand, it obeyed me almost unquestioningly from the very first time I used it. It would be a shame to give it back... But there was nothing I could do. To continue using it would be disrespectful to the old man, and I needed my own wand anyway, one that was tailored specifically to me. "Right..."
Phineas, Cygnus... Pollux Black, born in 1912, date of death unknown. So this rascal really is still alive! I began to look at the names next to them: Cygnus Black III, Arcturus Black III — they were all still alive. As were several other names highlighted in a strange grey colour, but without a date of death. Not faded black, but grey. As if the tapestry hadn't made up its mind yet. Cassiopeia Black, Lucretia Prewett... But then why hadn't he heard anything about them? And why hadn't his mother contacted them... Or had she, but they refused to help? No, that was nonsense...
Anyway, it's useless to think about it now, with so little information at hand. I need to talk to Walburga. But tomorrow morning. Right now, I'm not ready for such a conversation. There was no doubt that it would be difficult... Still somewhat dazed, I went to my room and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep instantly.
***
The entire story has already been written at:
patreon.com/posts/reborn-as-sirius-142654970